I am pausing to appreciate the sacred. They printed another of my prayers this morning, and because I like for them (as in the church) to always have an extra on hand, in case someone doesn’t turn theirs in (life happens, especially around this time of year), I immediately set about writing another.
It was the best thing I could do for myself as I charge through these last few days, impatiently awaiting the end of my term here and my release back to freedom. It is only God that soothes me. It is only prayer that returns me to feeling whole.
I agreed to do a five-minute talk on Christmas Eve. There are three of us – one for each of the wise men perhaps? – although we are all women. The minister asked me for my talk title yesterday, forcing me to focus on what I was saying prior to the actual event. (This is fly by the seat of your pants girl here. I’m a Panster!) So naturally since then, I have been thinking about it. This morning, instead of doing my morning pages, I found myself daydreaming, imagining what I would be saying. It must have been good because I had myself in tears. I was weeping with joy; grateful for how loved I felt and the depth of my love for God.
Which made it all the more challenging to focus on being present here in the office. People are flying in and out of the place with goodies in hand; many of the delectable are then being promptly spread around. If one person consumed all the sugar bequeath upon them in a single day he or she would get sugar-poisoning. Shut up. It’s a thing – the ultimate portrait of it being Type Two Diabetes. Yesterday I ate two of the double chocolate chip cookies from the plate of individually wrapped temptations adorning the front desk counter and quickly paid the price, remembering why I don’t eat cookies.
I have to remind myself that trusting God means listening. I am asked to do something and I must shove my resistance aside and surrender. (Not to cookies! To whatever is in front of me to do; though it is strange how when I enter this space where the writing feels sacred, time stretches into a quiet bubble.)
For the moment, it is eerily still. I embrace the nectar of it, love the opportunity to think and pray and marinate my heart in love of the Divine. I have my class tonight and I look forward to the sacred space that finds me during that time.
Thank you, God: for the peaceful interlude, for the calm, for the light yet to come. Let me pause for a moment to “treasure it up in my heart” (my new favorite phrase – thank you Reverend Martha). I drink in the quiet. I store it like a reservoir that I might find peace amid chaos when I need it. I let my gratitude sustain me. I let the Holy enter my heart.
This pearl of time is preciousness itself. How I love being paid to savor it.
Namaste, my friends, Namaste.